Lark Descending
by BloodiedBowties
Summary: Valentine's Day brings out the lovers in us - flowers, love notes. For Blaine, this is not such a good thing, and he finds himself spiraling deeper and deeper. Blangst - Warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Before you start reading, please note that this story could be potentially trigger-y. It's posted in its entirety on my tumblr and I warn for stalking, suicide, and non-con/rape among other things. Please take these warnings seriously. This is a dark one, guys.

I don't own Glee; consider the story disclaimed.

* * *

**Part 1**

A year ago, Blaine's life centered around Kurt and their future together. A year ago, Blaine and Kurt were still happily dating, planning all the winter-y activities they'd be doing, choosing each other's scarves and hats, and secretly planning ways to make their first Valentine's Day together better than the one from the previous year. Of course, this was until the Warblers threw one rock salt slushy into their plans.

It hadn't been the best Valentine's Day; Blaine had been bed-ridden since the surgery and he spent most of the day hoping his eyes would adjust and his balance would check out in time for the celebration. And then, when it became clear that Blaine had pushed himself too hard and was suffering from a migraine, it had been Kurt who'd taken him home and made him feel better. But it had been them, together, so it was all the Valentine's Day they needed.

Last year, everything had been about Kurt. And now, with him gone, Blaine didn't really know how to function. It was better than they had become friends again, but Blaine still felt the disconnect like it had been shredded apart within his own soul.

He still breathed for Kurt.

Which is why this season was particularly difficult for Blaine – all the heart decorations, the couples sneaking kisses in between classes, his friends hooking up and buying things for each other. It was Blaine's own brand of hell because he wanted all that. He wanted to buy special things for his special someone, but he was troubled deciding what would be appropriate to buy.

He never knew with Kurt, especially not right now. Buying a McQueen jacket for someone doesn't exactly scream best friends. And Kurt would never be satisfied with a simple card. He deserved more anyway.

This is what Blaine was thinking about when the first note fell from his locker and fluttered to the ground at his feet. He picked it up and gently unfolded it.

**_You're beautiful when you sing._**

Blaine smiled. Kurt had been the only one to compliment him like that, to be so willing to lay it all on the line. Someone had noticed him, despite how invisible and lost he felt, even now.

* * *

He found the next note in between the pages of his chemistry text book. **_I love when you smile after succeeding at a subject that's hard for you._**

Who was this guy? It's no secret that Blaine struggled at Chemistry on a daily basis, but the only succeeding he'd done lately was pulling off a B on that last test. But that was a week ago. Is it possible this guy had admired him for a while, that this wasn't just some crush?

It felt like he was cheating on Kurt – _idiot, you've already done that _– but it actually felt… really good to know that someone cared.

Blaine smiled, intending to place the note back where he found it when he noticed writing on the back. **_Chin up, love. You can do anything._**

* * *

They appeared sporadically throughout the next few days.

Folded inside his gym bag: **_You look hot when you box_**

Taped to the piano in the choir room: **_The only one sitting here should be you._**

Wrapped around his emergency hair gel_: __**This smells **_**SO****_ good_**

Lying open in his bag of extra clothes: **_You don't need these. They won't bother you. I'll take care of you_**

Blaine made a game out of it, guessing where the next one would be and what it would say. He was always wrong. This guy never stopped surprising him.

On the actual day of Valentine's, Blaine received a rose – one of the fundraisers the service club had been holding – with a note tied elegantly around its stem:

**_Roses are red_**

**_Violets aren't actually blue_**

**_I know you like my letters,_**

**_So here's one for you._**

Despite the fact that they were delivered in third period, when Blaine was in history class, he laughed out loud so hard he starting crying. It was so sweet, and nothing had been done for him like that before. His own poem. This guy was something.

* * *

"So what's new with school, Blaine? Are your classes going well?" Carole asked the next day, as she set the table for their Hudson-Hummel-Anderson Friday night dinner. Ever since Burt's diagnosis, Blaine had taken to stopping by every few days to keep Burt company, sometimes even to take Burt to his appointments. He'd made a promise, and Burt was more a father to him than his biological one.

"Yes. I still can't believe I'm graduating this year. It feels like yesterday that I started high school!"

"Aww. I know how that goes honey. Time does fly," she said, sneaking a fond glance in the living room where Finn was watching a football game with Burt. "We're so proud of you, Blaine."

He beamed. It felt so good to hear.

"You seem happier, honey. Care to share?"

For some reason, it felt wrong to admit that he was happy because he might've found someone in the house where he'd made love to his ex on more than on occasion.

"Just glad to be here."

* * *

The Monday after, however, Blaine started to get freaked.

There, taped to the outside of his locker: **_Why did you go to his house? You can't still love him after he abandoned you_**

He'd followed him home. His… whatever you would call it… secret admirer had followed his car to the Hudson-Hummel home. Who does that?

A stalker does that.

Swallowing hard, Blaine took down the note, placing it carefully with the others inside his locker. Maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe he'd just been driving in the area and saw Blaine's car.

_He knows what your car looks like_.

Blaine grabbed his books and pretended he wasn't shaking.

* * *

**_Why don't you smile anymore? Aren't I making you happy_**

**_ You're so beautiful when you smile_**

**_What did I do, Blaine_**

They continued like that, appearing two times, sometimes three times a day. Questions of whether Blaine was happy and little phrases, originally intended to be compliments, turned sour. **_I know the smell of your cologne._**

He found the familiar writing graffiti-ed on the door of the bathroom stall he always used, as he was a creature of habit. **_It's cute that you never use urinals, love._**

**_I love the way you look when you're sleeping._**

One day he found the tattered remains of Margaret Thatcher Dog hung from a hook inside his locker.

**_You mean nothing to him_**

He'd been inside his house. Holding back his fear, Blaine placed the note with the others and brought out the slashed fabric of his stuffed animal.

"Ugh. What is that thing!?" Kitty shrieked judgingly as she past him.

"Nothing. It's nothing," Blaine said. And for a moment, he thought about fixing it, but _he'd_ touched it. It didn't remind him of Kurt's comforting smile anymore.

Gingerly, Blaine tossed the dog in the trash. He was so scared.

**_Good boy_**

Eventually, the Glee club started noticing his jumpiness and unease. When they confronted him about it, he just shook his head unable to speak. He didn't know what to say or how to say it. "We need you in top shape for competition, Blaine. We're here to help, but you need to meet us halfway here," Tina insisted.

He wouldn't give. He'd never felt so alone.

**_Good job, Blaine. Our love is beyond them. You are better than them. I'm so proud._**

New Directions had taken to sitting separately in the cafeteria, the Cheerleaders – minus Blaine – sitting together, the jocks sitting together, the new kids huddled in a group in the corner. Luckily, their cafeteria has tables the perfect size for singles or doubles, so Blaine had begun to sit there every day, getting started on his homework early. It has actually done wonders for his GPA, sitting alone.

But it did get lonely. Blaine wished that one day Sam would choose to leave his football buddies for a bit, that Tina hadn't forgotten that they joined the Cheerios together, that Brittany would come bounding over with some out-there statement to make him smile. He wished that one day someone would notice that he needed them and that he didn't have the strength – no, the _courage –_ to do any of this on his own.

But clearly, they thought this was what he wanted, that he deserved to be alone because _he'd_ pushed _them_ away. He didn't know what to do anymore.

**_I saw you sitting alone at lunch. You should never have to be alone._**

He was being stalked. And no one seemed to notice. Or care.

* * *

**_I don't like the way people look at you in your uniform. Only I can look at you like that. You should quit._**

Coach Sue was pissed, but it had to be done. Blaine had gotten his unifom washed and reverently folded it in preparation for returning it. He sat there numbly, while Coach Sue started throwing things around the room and shouting at him, while the uniform lay there on the desk between them.

In the end, Coach Beiste, had come in to save him from Sue's wrath.

* * *

"We haven't heard from you in a while, Blaine. Please, give us a call. We miss you," Carole said on Blaine's voice mail.

He pressed speed dial 5, intending to press send, when a text came in from a number he didn't recognize.

** February 28 2013, 2:46 PM**

** Don't answer.**

No. How the hell had he gotten his phone number?

Carole called again later that day. Feeling as safe as he could be in his car, Blaine answered it.

"Hello?"

"Oh. Blaine. I'm happy you picked up."

"What do you need, Carole?"

"You. We miss you. And Burt has a treatment tomorrow. Will you take him? I'll be home from work in time to make you all a lovely dinner if you're up for it."

"That sounds great Carole, but I-"

"We're worried about you, Blaine. You've been so quiet and Finn keeps talking about how you quit Glee club. It just doesn't sound like you."

He did? He'd never even thought about quitting Glee club. It was the only thing he had left. How could he have –

Then, he remembered the note he'd found that morning:

**_I did it for us_**

"God, Carole, I have to go. I can't – can't-"

"Blaine? Blaine! Don't hang up!"

"I have to go."

* * *

He ended up in the gym, punching his feelings away. Boxing always made him feel strong for a little bit. It helped him believe it would all be okay and that he could fight it. It helped him lie to himself.

"You're so beautiful when you box," echoed a voice nearby. And menacingly, a figure appeared from the dark. Blaine turned to look at the boy who'd been stalking him the past few weeks and froze. "And when you sing. I love your voice, Blaine."

He recognized the boy from his Chemistry class. He sat a row behind him. He was in the AV club and the hockey team. Ivan? Ian? Isaac.

"Stop. Please, just stop. I don't want this."

"But you do, Blaine. I saw the way you smiled when you got my notes. We love each other."

"No," Blaine cried

"Yes. Look at me, love." Isaac grabbed Blaine's chin, forcing him to look up. "No one can know. Do you understand? No one."

Blaine whimpered into the forced kiss. Is this what Karofsky had felt like? Blaine stomach churned, thinking about all the notes and the torn stuffed animal and the breached privacy and the fear.

So much fear.

"Aren't you going to pay me back for all those notes, Blaine? I did so much for you and haven't got anything in return yet?"

"Wh-what did you have in mind?"

"How about a song? Just for me. Sing something." Isaac said tenderly running his hand down Blaine's cheek. Blaine shuddered.

"Like w-what?"

"SING!"

_Life's too short to even care at all ooh oh_

_I'm losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control…_

Isaac shivered under the spell of Blaine's voice. "Yes, so beautiful." He'd backed Blaine against the wall of the gym and kept running his hands up and down Blaine's arms as he trembled his way through the song.

_A dark world aches for the splash of the sun ooh oh_

His voice broke, the line of the song echoing into nothingness. "Isaac. I. I can't. Please. I can't finish it."

"That's okay, love. You don't have to finish it."

"Really?" he hiccupped.

"Really. You were stunning, baby, but I want something else anyway. You make me want something else." Isaac shimmied closer to Blaine, rubbing himself against his chest, inhaling the scent of his hair as he restrained Blaine's hands against the wall.

"No."

"I want you, Blaine."

no no nononononono "NO! I'll keep singing! I'll do it! Please, Isaac. Not this, please! See! _If I could find a way to see this straight I'd run away…_"

"Too late." And Isaac took.

Uhhh uh.

Stop.

No.


	2. Chapter 2

_Blaine doesn't know what to do with himself anymore._

**A/N: **Major non-con warning

* * *

**Part 2**

_Dear Blaine,_

_I thought you'd do something for Valentine's Day. I'll be honest - I was upset for a while that you didn't. But then I realized maybe your card got lost in the mail or something and I didn't want to be that guy who makes assumptions out of nothing. You mean too much to me for that. Sorry this card took so long._

_ Kurt_

Blaine pinned Kurt's card to the display board on his bedroom wall. Although, it was two weeks late – and that said plenty – it was the handwritten 'love' that made him want to treasure the note. At first, he'd thought the card might've been from… but, no, it was Kurt's writing on the envelope.

He truly hated himself for forgetting to send Kurt a gift for Valentine's Day. He'd spent so long trying to decide between the new cookware Kurt had been wanting, the blue scarf he'd seen at the mall, and the option of making something on his own. Kurt had loved his gum-wrapper ring, but Blaine thought it might've been too much for an ex-boyfriend to receive a homemade gift like that. There was, of course, the McQueen jacket. But was that too much, as well?

Blaine had spent so much time debating. And then, he'd just… forgotten.

He'd been so excited about having a potential admirer that he'd forgotten everything else, forgotten Kurt. The first time that happened, he'd hurt Kurt unimaginably by doubting their forever. The second time, he'd ended up hurting himself in a way he couldn't escape.

He knows he didn't deserve it; not even cheating on Kurt warranted that sort of punishment. No, nobody ever deserves that pain, but a large part of him feels like he had it coming – karma or something.

Reclining on his bed, Blaine glides the pad of his finger across the first note - **_You're beautiful when you sing _**_– _ as if he could erase the message if he pressed down on the ink hard enough.

He feels like such an idiot.

_The mascot was wrong. The mural in the work-out room depicted a Roman warrior, not a Titan as their team names implied. Titan, Roman Soldier: two different things. Despite its historical inaccuracy, the mascot wasn't really as bad as it could've been – it gave them plenty of reasons to use the color red. Red was, after all, the color of the Roman Army: the darker the colors worn, the higher the status of the officer. Different dyes. Dark colors were more expensive._

_But red was a power color – it made their teams seem more menacing._

_When Isaac backed away from the wall, Blaine had tried to make a get-away, but Isaac had simply thrown him to the ground and held him with his own weight, slamming Blaine's face to the floor as punishment for the "rudeness." The damn mascot was the only thing Blaine could see or think about as his body was pounded into the ground, restrained by Isaac's solid muscle and slick with lube (Blaine didn't want to think about what it meant that Isaac just carried it around with him) and trembling around the pain in his ass._

_Like a Roman officer would be pumping iron anyway. They didn't need to with the weight of the armor and the packs they carried. Their training was more about marching and formations, not body building._

_Blaine wished that somebody – anybody besides the Titan-but-actually-Roman-Soldier – would come in and stop it. But it seemed that no one wanted to be in the school building afterhours on a Thursday. It must've been half-off appetizers day at Breadstix._

_After he finished and withdrew himself from Blaine, Isaac clutched Blaine's body to his chest and whispered tenderly in his ear. "You were so good, Blaine. So ready. You were magical." They were words so contrary to what had just happened that bile stirred in Blaine's stomach. He felt Isaac _crying_ into the skin of his back, but Blaine himself was heavy and numb._

_"So beautiful." And with a kiss, Isaac left him bleeding and whimpering there, his clothes thrown haphazardly across the room and his body feeling just as sullied._

_It seemed like eternities, but after a few minutes the clouds faded from behind Blaine's eyes, and he hurled himself into the bathrooms where he explosively threw up his entire lunch while he sobbed._

_He usually didn't wash at school because of all the stories Kurt had told him about McKinley's showers, but Blaine couldn't turn on the hot water fast enough, scrubbing his skin raw and scraping at phantom touches._

_He plucked his clothes from the floor, dressed himself, and tossed his black boxing gloves into the nearest trash can. They'd completely betrayed him._

_He couldn't stand being in this room. With one last look at the silent Titan who'd seen everything, Blaine went home, burned his clothes, and showered again._

_And again._

It's the sound of his phone ringing that pulls Blaine out of the flashback. It's "Teenage Dream" so he knows its Kurt, but the distance between his bed and his desk, and the fact that he is still hurting two days later…

But he made a promise to always pick up Kurt's calls, so Blaine limps to the desk and answers his phone.

"Kurt?"

"Blaine? Are you okay? You sound-"

"Fine," he says, carefully sinking down to rest on his desk chair. And to divert Kurt's attention, Blaine continues, "I got your card today."

"Really! That was fast. I'm sorry it was so late, though. I needed to find the perfect one and then I never got your card and I started second guessing myself but I needed you to know that you still matter and I-"

"Kurt, you're rambling."

"Sorry," Kurt giggles. "Anyway I just wanted to make you smile. Did it work?" There is silence as Blaine thinks about how he'd lost all color when he originally saw the envelope and how he still feels intensely guilty for forgetting Kurt on Valentine's Day. Kurt deserves his honesty.

"Yeah, Kurt. I have to be truthful, though. Uh- your card didn't get lost in the mail. I didn't get you a card. I –um – got distracted with school things and lost track of my days. I'll make it up to you though!" Technically it's not a lie. "I'll take you out to lunch next time you come home." Gives him something to look forward to.

"Oh, that sounds good, Blaine. I was worried that you might have avoided me on purpose, you know? I just really don't want to lose you. I know that now, and I was scared more than angry. But it's just a silly card. "

It's never just a silly anything with Kurt, but Kurt is too forgiving sometimes.

"As long as we're okay. So, are you less stressed now, though? With school?" Kurt asks.

"What? Oh yeah. I had a test yesterday, though," Blaine says. And, in fact, he doesn't remember anything he wrote. He doesn't even remember whether it was short answer or Scantron.

It was a chemistry test, and he was there.

"I'm sure you did fine. Anyway, I just have to tell you why I called in the first place. So I went shopping today and I found this adorable fabric store. And I have it down to two patterns, but I really want your opinion on…"

The chair was uncomfortable, so Blaine moved to his bed to ease the pain. He grinned as Kurt prattled on about the clothes he wanted to make, because it showed that he was starting to trust Blaine again. Before Kurt had gotten the job at Vogue, even before that when they were still at McKinley together, they'd call each other all the time with trivial day-to-day gossip and stories. It felt very much like Kurt was rekindling that tradition, hinting that it was once again okay for Blaine to call for random reasons.

It seemed a step toward forgiveness.

Blaine wanted to be able to love this, treasure this moment forever. But, through Kurt's speech, Blaine's phone kept beeping in his ear, signifying someone trying to call in. The caller was relentless, dialing in again immediately after the unanswered first call.

So Blaine pressed his eyelids against the tears forcing through and gripped his hair and tried to focus on Kurt's voice as his body shuddered in fear and disgust through waves of agony. How could the world keep spinning steadily for everyone else and for Kurt, when Blaine felt like it was trying to fling him off towards the edge of space?

Long after Kurt had ended the call, Blaine remained curled on his bedspread, listening to the silence of an empty house and wishing Kurt had been enough to make him forget. His phone continued buzzing on his bed, flashing the number he'd tried to ignore but knew anyway. Eventually, he turned his phone off and cried himself into a haunted sleep.

* * *

Sunday morning after Kurt's call, he'd found his phone blown up with calls, and even more text messages from Isaac worrying about him and wondering where he was. But on Monday morning, Blaine finds another note in his locker:

**_I understand why you needed the weekend – I did too. I know you're overwhelmed just like I am but it's okay. We're okay. You need to answer next time though because I missed you._**

**_It's kind of fun having a secret romance. DON'T TELL!_**

**_Can't wait to see you today. Love you._**

Blaine has no idea what to do anymore. He knows that Isaac is sick and dangerous and terrifyingly unaware of how wrong his actions are, but he can't think about any of this logically. He can't even think about it in general because he knows he won't make it through the school day if he does.

So Blaine does the only thing he can, and escapes to the choir room to play the piano. Immediately after, he goes to Mr. Schue's office to confirm his resignation from Glee for real. And this time, it's not because he's scared of what Isaac will do – well he is, but that's not the main reason – it's because he honestly doesn't think he could stomach having to sing ever again.

Finn, still technically a staff member even as co-supervisor of New Directions, comes up to him after his first period, and for a moment Blaine thinks that someone cared enough to ask questions about why he'd been quitting his extracurriculars, sitting alone at lunch, refusing to participate in classes…

He doesn't understand why no one notices, when Blaine himself feels so different. But he's always been close to Finn and his family, so maybe he could tell. Even a "Why did you leave Glee?" would be enough, but, then again, Blaine isn't sure if he can handle revealing the truth.

Finn slams his hand in the locker beside Blaine's, making him flinch, and speaks. "What the hell, man? You were supposed to take Burt to the doctors Friday! He almost missed his treatment because I had a staff meeting."

Blaine's panic subsides, replaced by intense disappointment in himself. The Hummels had always been so good to him, and he promised Kurt that he'd help them. He should've been there.

It seems he can't do anything right.

"I –uh – I'm so sorry, Finn. I meant to be there," Blaine murmurs. He can't remember a thing he did on Friday night.

"Dude, you're usually so good about this. What happened?"

And Blaine knows this is his moment, knows that telling Finn right now could change everything. This is it. But he sees Isaac's notes piled in his locker and he feels so stupid having to explain how he was once _excited_ to receive them, and the words just don't come out.

"I f-forgot," he stammers. He absolutely hates himself.

Finn rolls his eyes. "Well, Mom is worried so she says you have no choice but to be at Friday Night Dinner this week. If she can forgive you, then so can I. Just don't let it happen again. Ok?"

"Y-Yeah. Okay"

"Oh! So, I found these in the Lost-and-Found this morning," Finn says, digging around in his gym bag. "You might want to do whatever you do to wash them, though. I asked the janitor about them and apparently they were in the trash before he rescued them."

Blaine is unsurprised when Finn hands him his boxing gloves. He wants to die, though.

"Thanks, Finn," he says, forcing himself to smile, though he feels the dirt of that afternoon seeping into his skin where the gloves are touching him.

* * *

He thinks Chemistry is going to be the hardest for him, having to be in the same room as him, and breathing the same air. But it's not.

Because Isaac sits behind him, Blaine is able to pretend that he can't feel the dangerously loving stare of the boy. So he sits stiffly, refusing to move his gaze from his notebook where copying formulas is monotonous enough to lull him into detachment.

No, it's not Chemistry that is the hardest. It's gym class. He spirals into a full panic attack when Coach Beiste reveals that they are having class in the weight room . Pride pushes him to smother his fear, but it rears back full force when Blaine steps into the room and sees the stupid mascot, watches frozen as his peers walk all over the place where it happened.

And he can't speak or breathe because he can hear his own voice bouncing from wall to wall.

_I'm losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control_


	3. Chapter 3

_Blaine hurts all the time._

* * *

**Part 3**

Sometimes Blaine hurts so much that he can't feel. His stomach still churns and his body still shudders at the caress of ghostly fingertips, but everything turns off and he meanders like a zombie, searching not for brains, but for _anything _to help him get through to the next hour. And when that something doesn't come and he's still living anyway, the numbness is his only comfort.

Beiste led him to the nurse's office during his panic attack, where Ms. Pillsbury soon met him to discuss what had happened. Despite her soothing words and honest eyes, Blaine felt his throat choking around his words and all he could do was close his eyes and shake his head.

No one can know how broken he really is. He just couldn't – and can't - tell. But keeping it secret would be much easier if it weren't still happening – because he _really _needs help and he _wants_ to tell. For the sake of making Isaac stop, Blaine wants to tell.

That night, Blaine lies in bed and listens to the rain. It's storming heavily – not enough that it's thundering, but so that the water pounds relentless on the house and pools deeply in the cracks with wet squelches.

Blaine stares up at the ceiling.

The lack of Margaret Thatcher Dog is painfully real to Blaine, and he wonders if Isaac slashed the treasured plushie here in this very room or whether he stole it first before concocting the sick scheme.

Isaac has been in this room, touched his bed, probably scoured the place. Blaine's journal is here, his trophies are here. His scrapbook of Kurt is here. And Isaac probably put his tainted hands on that too.

Oh shit. His scrapbook.

His joints crack at the sudden movement, but he makes it to his desk, hastening to make sure the scrapbook has been untouched, but hesitating because he knows there's no way it is.

The cover looks falsely pristine. But the inside, as he discovers with quivering hands…the inside is a very obviously a mess.

The red pen he kept for marking up his essays must be practically empty considering how much of it ended up on top of Kurt's face. In every picture. Blaine flips through the book, and the pen has scratched out every image of their joined hands, every smile belonging to Kurt, every memory.

Blaine doesn't realizing he's crying again until his tears drip onto the book, smearing the stains of red over the pages.

The last filled page of the book, where he hoped to add more memories once he continued his life with Kurt in New York, reads **_FORGET HIM OR I'LL MAKE YOU_**

* * *

The next day at school, all Blaine can think about is what's going to happen next. He hates how he used to eagerly guess where the next note would appear. Now he just wants to get through the day with his eyes closed so he doesn't have to see when the world crumbles further.

Blaine really hates Tuesdays.

Mr. Brower tells them at the beginning of class that they will be getting Friday's tests returned at the end of the period. While Blaine bites the tip of his pen – because he just knows he failed, he knows it – Mr. Brower drones on about molarity.

Isaac is behind him. Blaine's lungs tighten. He reminds himself that he can do this, that just yesterday he made it through this class unscathed. It doesn't seem to help.

Today, he can't pretend that he can't feel Isaac's eyes on him. Now Blaine knows that those eyes saw all his memories of Kurt and all his hopes for his future. Isaac has seen practically everything that makes Blaine feel himself, so, no; he can't ignore Isaac's intense looks today.

Minute by minute, Blaine's chest gets tighter until he feels like he's going to implode from the strain. He needs out of here. He needs out of here now.

Mr. Brower ends his lecture five minutes before the bell in order to pass back their tests. There doesn't seem to be much of an order to the stack of papers, because he weaves between the desks to get to the students. He also says their names to get their attention so he won't have to walk as far.

So when Mr. Brower heads his way, Blaine sinks in his chair, physically shrinking away from the inevitable "F" at the top of his test. But it's Isaac's name Mr. Brower says, and Blaine's tracks his teacher's movements before he realizes what's happening.

He looks at Isaac.

All too quickly, the breath he was holding escapes from between his lips, and it sounds so loud in his ears that everyone had to have heard it along with his piercing heartbeat. The implosion is happening; he can feel it down to his toes.

And then, his test is placed face up on his desk, the D circled twice. And it's red ink, and Mr. Brower has placed his hand on Blaine's shoulder as he leans down to say "see me after class" and there's nothing else for Blaine to do but sprint out of class before he throws up in front of everybody.

Blaine returns to his locker half an hour later, pale and shaky. Their next period has already begun, and Blaine is very late for gym. Not that he cares. He would've skipped anyway. He figures he'd hide away in the library after he dropped off his chemistry work.

"Blaine? You dropped this," a voice says from behind him. "It fell out of your locker." Blaine turns and Ryder is offering him a piece of paper. Blaine recognizes the writing immediately and reaches out for it before Ryder can see.

"Thanks," he says, skimming he note: **_You're better than that Blaine. We should study together. And when you do better, I'll reward you. _**Blaine's knees give out, and he almost falls. He leans against his locker, trying to play it casually for Ryder. I'll _reward _you. _Reward. _He's going to be sick again.

"Are you…? Blaine?" It doesn't work. Obviously. Ryder sees right through the act, and grips Blaine's shoulders to help steady him. It's the second time someone has touched him there today. "You look sick. Was it the note? What did it say?"

And then there's a moment when Blaine looks into Ryder's eyes and sees honest concern. And he realizes that this is his time. He wants to go to class without worrying where Isaac will turn up next. He wants to not be scared. He wants to stop feeling sick all the time.

Blaine can't imagine himself _feeling_ worse. There has to be a way out. He_has_ to tell, because the only person he's more scared of than Isaac is himself. He just wants this all to be over, and Ryder is offering him a chance to do just that.

He isn't sure why he couldn't tell Beiste, or Finn, or Carole, but for some reason he's here with Ryder and feeling ready.

He hands the note over.

Ryder eyes skim over the words. "I-I don't understand."

Blaine isn't surprised. It's not like the message was particularly threatening. It's not like he can expect Ryder to know what Isaac means by reward. But Blaine can't say it. He can't.

So he turns, opens his locker again, and pulls out another from where he kept them piled. It's the one about how good he looks while sleeping.

Jesus Christ. Why did he save these? Why?

He hands it to Ryder.

"Blaine. I can't read this. Why can't you just talk to me? What's happening?"

Rage wells in Blaine's gut, and he feels his ears turning red. He's not even angry at Ryder. It's not his fault he's dyslexic. No, Blaine is angry at the world for taking everything away from him, including his chance of an escape. And he's mad at himself for thinking that it could work out in the first place.

He growls deep in his throat. Blaine snatches all the notes, including the ones in Ryder's hands, and shuts his locker with a bang so loud that Ryder jolts. With one slash, Blaine rips the notes in half, and tosses them into the trashcan.

"Blaine, what -"

But Blaine has already stalked off, leaving Ryder alone in the almost deserted hallway. Ryder watches him until he rounds the corner.

"What was that about?"

"I don't know yet." Ryder turns to look at the boy suddenly standing next to him. "Who are you?"

"Name's Isaac. I'm a friend of Blaine's. "

"Really?"

"Is it really that hard to believe?" Isaac says with a laugh.

"No, dude. I mean Blaine loves hanging out with the guys. Well he did. I don't know. It's just something has been going on with him and I don't know what to think anymore. Does he seem okay to you?" Ryder asks. He's not sure why Blaine has turned to this boy, but at least he has someone to confide in since he quit his extra clubs. They – the Glee Club – haven't really been there for him, but his quitting was really unexpected. At least, despite whatever is happening, he has friends.

"More than fine. Blaine seems great to me."

"Will you make sure he's okay?" Ryder asks.

"Yeah, dude. I'll make sure he's all right."

* * *

He's everywhere. The damn Titan with his stupid Roman soldier armor is all over the place. He's the only one who knows, and he's watching Blaine around every hall. He sees Blaine, and he sees the truth.

Blaine screams angrily, trying not to ram his fist into the wall where the mascot's face is painted. But after running and running, he's no longer angry. He just hurts.

He wants to be done hurting. Blaine ducks inside the nearest empty classroom, and sinks to the floor, clutching at himself as proof he's still here.

He's realizes he's in the empty choir room. It's only second period, so no one will be around until later.

He's all alone. And, for the first time, he _likes _it. No Isaac. No one judging him, or staring at him. No one asking questions. No one to impress.

Just him – Blaine – and the sound of his own breathing. And maybe – just maybe – music, if he can pry himself from the ground.

He staggers to the piano, lifts the lid, and caresses the ivories. It's a made-up tune until he transitions into the easy chords of "Lean on Me" and then into the fluttery "Heart and Soul." He hiccups through his tears because "Heart and Soul" is probably the most cliché thing he could be playing right now. But it's such a cute little tune that Blaine can't help but laugh. He transitions again into "the Entertainer" and then back into "Lean on Me."

He can practically hear the humming._ Sometime in our lives…_

He should be able to sing it, but he can't. Not yet. The choir room door suddenly opens, and Isaac is standing there, eyes fuming.

"_What_ did you do!"


	4. Chapter 4

_Isaac has cornered Blaine again, but this time it's going to be different._

**A/N:** warning for attempted non-con and violence

* * *

**Part 4**

Ryder finally makes it to the men's bathroom, where he weighs his options for a moment. After meeting Blaine's friend, he feels better about the situation, but not great. Blaine is clearly still struggling, and Glee Club should've been there for him regardless.

Reading can wait; Ryder just as a feeling that now's the time for them to do something.

He sends a text out to New Directions saying that they need to have an emergency meeting stat and to meet him at the theater.

When he gets there, Sam is already sitting on the edge of the stage, Tina, Brittany, and Unique beside him. Jake and Marley come in together, and Ryder swallows the burst of jealousy at that – now is not the time. Sugar comes in from the back moments later and Artie wheels out from backstage.

"Joe can't get out of class," Sam says, glancing up at his phone.

"Neither can Kitty," Tina adds.

Ryder looks around at the group assembled. "Well, we might as well start, I guess."

"Should we test Finn? Or Blaine?" Sam asks.

Ryder nods. "Yeah, text Finn. And it's actually Blaine I wanted to talk about." Can't hurt to jump right in, right? "I think he needs our help."

"This again?" Jake mutters, but everyone hears him anyway. So he says, speaking to all of them, "I just mean we _already_ tried to help him. He didn't want our help, remember?" There are a few mumbles of agreement around the room – Tina, who'd felt terribly betrayed when he stopped singing lead and then left her alone in both of the teams they were in together, Sugar and Artie too.

"We didn't try really hard," Marley says beside Jake, her eyes lowered to the floor.

"I miss my warbler bird," Brittany agrees, and Sam wraps an arm around her when she sniffles. Brittany had never been very good with abandonment, and the fact is, Sam was mad at Blaine for her sake. But if something was going on with Blaine…

"Why do you think Blaine is in trouble?" he asks. Finn stumbles in at that moment, nodding to his friends. After everyone settle down again, Ryder clears his throat and tells them about the interaction in the hallway, how sick Blaine had looked. How scared. How he'd tried to tell him something important and then ran off frustrated when Ryder didn't understand.

"Did he look scared before you approached him?" Unique asked when he finished.

"No…I mean maybe a little jumpy, but not scared. Not like when he read the note. He just – I've never seen someone's expression change that fast." Ryder thinks of Blaine's wide eyes, how his legs nearly collapsed from underneath him, and how his entire body shook as he handed the notes to Ryder, his arms noticeably covered in goose bumps.

He'd been terrified.

"The notes have to be the clue." And Ryder's never hated his learning disability more. Marley disentangles herself from Jake's arm to take Ryder's hand.

"It's not your fault," she says.

Tina speaks up, feeling guilty, "Do you think he's getting hate letters? Kurt used to get them. He showed them to me once. They were awful."

They look around at each other, taking in everyone's shocked expressions at the realization that Blaine could've been getting threatened continually without them knowing.

"You don't think he'd…" Unique whispers.

"No! Blaine would never," Sam retorts fervently. But the fact is none of them feel like they know what exactly Blaine would or would not do anymore.

"We have to find those notes," Marley says.

"We have to find Blaine," Ryder responds. "Where would he go?" he says, glancing at Finn and Sam.

"Here," Finn says.

"The choir room," says Sam.

"Or the art building," Tina retorts.

"He could've just left, you know," Jake says, shrugging.

Finn shakes his head at that. "No, Blaine has nowhere to go outside. He's here. Somewhere."

They decide to split up. In the hopes of finding some clues, Artie agrees to go to the trashcan to find the notes Blaine had torn. Sugar goes with him.

Finn, Ryder, and Brittany take the area around the chorus room, while Jake, Marley, Unique, and Tina decide to search the area around the art room on the other side of the school.

"I wish I had gotten Isaac's number." Ryder says once they split with the others. "It would make this so much easier."

"Isaac?"

"Oh. Blaine's friend."

"Blaine's never mentioned an Isaac." Finn shakes his head warily.

"That's because there isn't one. Blaine Warbler is too lonely for an Isaac. Haven't you noticed?"

Blaine has been awfully alone lately. What if… what if, _Isaac_ has been sending the hate letters? What if he's with Blaine right now? Because Ryder sent him there.

"We need to find him. _Now."_

* * *

"_What_ did you do!" Isaac says, thundering into the choir room, rage emanating from his raised arms down to his running shoes, as he hauls Blaine off the piano stool to face him, the melody stopping abruptly.

"No," Blaine squeaked. "Isaac, please don't." Blaine isn't quite sure what he's asking Isaac not to do, but he knows whatever Isaac has in mind – he doesn't want it. He hates how young he sounds, how blatantly afraid.

"I've been looking for you everywhere! Do you realize what you've done?" Isaac shouts, shaking him harshly by the shoulders so that the movement throws Blaine's head back. "Well aren't you gonna say something?" Isaac says, releasing Blaine's shoulder and instead jabbing his pointer finger into Blaine's chest.

"No. I-I-I don't understand. What I d-do?"

"You don't know? You trashed my love letters. How could you do that?" And suddenly, Isaac looks so sad. He looks exactly the way Blaine felt when he found out Kurt had been texting Chandler. But there's a fierceness behind Isaac's eyes that is scarier than anything Blaine could imagine. Scarier even than the hatred he faced at the Sadie Hawkins dance.

Isaac is territorial, and willing to do anything to protect what he deems his. And Blaine is what's his.

People say that our lives could go down thousands of different paths, and that where we end up is a matter of decision-making. What if Blaine hadn't decided to say yes to the Sadie Hawkins dance? What if he decided to go to the private school near Cooper's place instead of Dalton Academy? What if he decided to join the fencing team instead of the Warblers?

The moment Isaac looks at Blaine for an answer, his eyes blazing with sadness and possession, Blaine knows that this is one of those moments that could decide his future - that everything is riding on what he says now.

He wants to say: _Because you're a sick fuck and I am so done with life if this is what it's going to be. _But that would be the worst thing to do. Instead, he says, hating the way his voice trembles, "I don't know. There were just so many and I-I-"

Isaac doesn't let him finish. As Blaine should've expected. "Those were special Blaine! I can't believe you would throw them away. Throw us away!"

And before Blaine can think about it, he responds, "Isaac there is no-"

"And to think you'd turn to that freshman kid!" Isaac continues, thankfully not listening to what Blaine had tried to say, too caught up in his personal rant.

"Ryder?" Blaine says. "What does Ryder have to do with anything?"

"Everything!" Isaac responds. "What does he have that I don't Blaine? What? I'm stronger. I'm smarter. I'm _better." _

Blaine realizes almost too late that Isaac has been trying to back him against the wall. He's a few feet away, and he knows it can't happen again. Blaine is very familiar with what Isaac is capable of now, and he won't _let_ it happen again.

The flashbacks are just at the edge of his vision, but Blaine shakes his head against them. He needs control. He needs out. It won't happen.

Blaine is little, and he's quick, and he knows what Isaac will try to do this time. So when Isaac raises his arms with the intent to pin him, Blaine ducks under before Isaac comprehends what's happening.

And Blaine runs with everything he has.

He's on the ground just as quickly, having lurched forward when Isaac dove for his feet. Isaac scrambles over Blaine's legs, holding him down with his face to the floor.

"Do I need to show you, Blaine? Do I need to prove to you just how much_better_ I am?"

He flips Blaine quickly, straddling him. And Blaine can feel _him_ through his jeans. He whimpers.

Isaac rubs up against him. "Shh baby so good. Love this, love you," he croaks, breathing fast and heavy, sweat already dripping down onto Blaine's shirt.

Anything but this. Blaine will take anything but this. Not again. Even though he's been walking around like death for weeks, even though he's been lost for months without Kurt, Blaine allows himself to feel. He won't just take it. Not this time. He won't let himself go numb. He's strong enough to fight. He can change this.

Blaine bucks up against Isaac, flailing and struggling against him.

"Yes! That's it baby. I love you like this," Isaac says, palming Blaine through his jeans.

He can do it. It'll change everything, but he can do it. Blaine musters up everything he has, every emotional within him and channels it into this moment.

"I DON'T LOVE YOU!" Blaine shouts. "Don't you get it? I. DON'T. WANT. YOU. I don't want this! Not with you, never with you. I hate you, Isaac. I hate you!" He's shouting even after Isaac has stopped moving on top of him, and he looks into Isaac's incensed eyes and knows he's succeeded.

Because Isaac no longer lusts for him, he lusts for retribution.

And the fist of justice… that Blaine can deal with.

* * *

They hear the sound of Blaine's scream and the slap of skin on skin as they round the corner to the hallway outside the choir room. Finn, Ryder, and Brittany take off, slamming the door open and barging in.

Isaac doesn't even register the noise, consumed with his desire to pummel Blaine into the ground. But Blaine hears them.

"Help," he tries to say, but the words lodge in his throat as Isaac slams his fist into Blaine's face again. It doesn't matter though, because Blaine doesn't need to _ask_ for help. For the first time, it's right there and ready.

Finn and Ryder wrestle Isaac off of Blaine, and Brittany sits down beside him, blocking his view of where the boys are, no doubt, returning the punches.

"Can I touch you, Blaine Warbler?" she asks him. She's always been told not to touch an injured bird because its mother will abandon it. She doesn't want Blaine's mother to abandon him, but she thinks Blaine really needs it. He blinks at her, and his eyes fill with tears.

Screw it. If Blaine's mother abandons him at least she will always be there. So, she runs her hand through his hair, petting him as only Brittany can, completely heedless to the blood soaking her skin.

"It's okay, my warbler bird. We got you," she says, leaning down to press her lips softly against his stained skin. He closes his eyes at the intimacy of the touch. Right now, he'd be happy if he never opened them again.

"Blaine? Are you okay?" Finn asks somewhere nearby.

No. He's not okay. But he's better.

"Blaine, the nurse is coming. You're gonna be fine," he hears Ryder say.

Blaine can feel them – his friends, and god he feels like he can call them that again! – surround him, Finn holding his hand, and Ryder resting his hand innocently on Blaine's knee, and Brittany, sweet Brittany, massaging her hand through his hair.

He shouldn't like this as much as he does. Almost every part of him wants to recoil at the touches. Every part, actually, except his heart which aches desperately for it.

It aches for something real.

Brittany tries to hush his tears, but his lips are so swollen that he can't explain that they're _happy tears. _He's in so much pain, yes, but he's relieved.

He's crying because it's **over.**


	5. Chapter 5

_Someone knows, and Blaine has to find a way to admit the truth._

* * *

**Part 5**

Except it's not over – not really. In the days following the second attack, Blaine is just as terrified as he was before. His nerves have not caught the memo that he is now _safe,_ no matter how many times Blaine tells himself that this is the case. He breaks out into convulsive shivers in seconds, and it takes another half an hour for him to calm himself until the next trigger. He jolts at loud noises, like lockers slamming and books falling, and panics at the lightest of touches. He shakes when his phone goes off, even though his number has changed.

This time, his friends are there for him. It helps, but not as much as he thought it would. Actually, in some aspects it makes it worse.

The day following the attack, Blaine came into school with his bruises lightened as much as possible with concealer (he really hadn't wanted to bring attention to himself). With Isaac suspended — yes, only suspended – Blaine felt like he could have his first normal school day since the whole Isaac thing began. Coach Sue wouldn't let him back on the Cheerios since they'd already adjusted their programs, but Finn and Mr. Schue were thrilled to hear he wanted back in Glee.

Before Finn arrived for their rehearsal, Sam asked Blaine about the notes. Because Isaac would surely be expelled if the school board knew about the threats. Blaine just shook his head, "They're sure to be gone by now," he says, lying through his friends' misconception of the content in the notes he trashed.

He didn't want them to know what the notes really said. Not anymore. It was better this way. He was out now and his friends seemed so happy knowing that they saved him…. Blaine just didn't have it in his heart to tell them the truth. He couldn't bear to see them look at him differently.

Because they would.

"All right, guys. Let's get started," Finn said, and the subject was dropped.

But it became clear very quickly that Isaac's hold on him wasn't gone. Blaine wasn't ready to sing just yet. And his friends kept going on and on about how glad they were he was safe, how lucky he was that they got there in time_. In time for what?_

And they just had no idea.

* * *

He is living with the Hummels now, since Burt was called to pick him up from the school when his parents didn't answer. They couldn't have picked up the call because they were on a cruise somewhere in the world, and Blaine knew it.

He was always on guard, and if keeping face was hard at school, it was even harder at home when Burt and Carole cared so much that he felt it as soon as he entered the house. It wasn't just that they'd taken the time to set up a room for him, but it was the little things too - the fact that his picture was now framed and displayed next to ones of Finn and Kurt, the fact that they purchased extra cinnamon because they knew he puts it on his food a lot, the fact that Burt dug out his old record player and set it up for him in the living room, giving Blaine his choice of vinyl.

Kurt has been calling him almost non-stop, making sure he's ok and offering advice for covering up his bruises. It's obvious to Blaine that Kurt wishes he could do more, that he feels so guilty about something completely out of his control. And Blaine blames himself for being unable to pretend just a little bit more for Kurt.

He can't help that his voice breaks, that Kurt can probably hear the static from the way his handshakes around the phone pressed against his ear. But he always says he fine, and Kurt knows Blaine well enough to pretend for his sake that he believes him.

He tells him he loves him because he knows Blaine needs to hear it, and because their past doesn't make it any less true.

The Hummels do everything they can do make Blaine feel comfortable and loved and safe. Blaine smiles through the bruises, and presses the threat of tears back until he showers. And when he sleeps, he turns his face into the pillow, hoping that it will muffle the sound of his screams.

* * *

When Blaine comes into Glee exactly one week after the incident, he glances up to see Artie looking at him funny. _He knows._ It has to be that he knows, but Artie looks away quickly and Blaine breathes in relief that maybe he was just imagining things.

His illusion is shattered when, at lunch, Artie tentatively comes over to his private table and places his packed lunch across from him.

"We need to talk, Blaine. I don't know why you're doing what you're doing, but it needs to stop," Artie says.

With false confidence, Blaine picks up his fork to poke at his salad and says, "What am I doing, Artie?"

"Acting. Making everyone believe you're okay when you're not. Man, there's no easy way to say this." He pauses, breathing in deeply. "But I know the truth. Blaine, and you _have _to tell someone."

"I-I." His salad suddenly tastes like sandpaper and he chokes on his words._Oh god oh god oh god oh god. _"W-what do you know?" he asks instead.

So, Artie tells him about how Ryder called an emergency meeting, how they split up to find him, how he and Sugar had gone to the trash for clues. How he'd spent the entire week figuring out how the torn pieces of paper fit back together, and how, even after taping them, it took awhile for him to read between the lines. He never actually says it, and Blaine is grateful for that at least, but he does make it obvious that there's only one thing he's talking about – and it's not homophobic death threats.

"Blaine, this guy is still very dangerous. What were you gonna do when they let him back in school? He's suspended, and he'll be back in two more weeks. You have to know that, Blaine."

"Stop. Please, Artie, just stop," whimpers, trying to hold on to the last threads of his control and wishing he were anywhere else besides the lunch room where everyone could see him losing it.

He knows he's been kidding himself; it's the nightmare he has every night - when it's not memory, it's prophecy. But he wakes up and tells himself differently because that's the only way he can breathe. The past week has been one of the best he's had in forever – no notes, no surprise texts or calls, Kurt saying he loves him, the Hummels giving him a family, his friends looking at him like they care again. It's been _right_ for so long, that Blaine forced himself into believing it wasn't temporary. He couldn't admit to himself that he still wasn't safe because he needed to feel like he was. Even for a little bit.

He's not ready to think about this now. More and more, Blaine worries not about what Isaac will do when he gets back, but what Blaine will do. He's been climbing so high away from reality that he knows he won't be able to handle the descent again. And Blaine is almost certain that he's been riding high this week because he fully did not intend to be here when Isaac came back. And that terrifies him.

"Look, Blaine. I'm just worried about you. We all are. This guy is sick! You don't know what…else he could do. This is bigger than us, Blaine. Bigger than school. He needs to be stopped; just, please, please, tell someone and get help. You can't keep this secret anymore."

Blaine shakes his head.

"If you don't do it, I will. I mean it, Bl-"

But Blaine has already made his decision. "No, Artie," he says quietly. "It's okay. I know. I'll t-tell someone."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

They seal it with a fist bump, and Artie stays with him through lunch, encouraging him to eat even though it still tastes like nothing.

* * *

Burt is sitting in the living room, watching the football game while Blaine paces in his guest room upstairs, running through how he's going to do this. Carole is making a large dinner for the five of them, enough for both Sam and Finn to have their fills, and the aroma of chicken parmesan drifts upstairs.

Walking down there is going to be one of the hardest things he's ever done. Everything will change. It's going to mean months of a nasty court trial, sums of money the Hummels should not be spending on him, unending retellings of what happened to him without a guaranteed conclusion. It's going to mean facing Isaac again.

His legs tremble, his entire body aches, and he's pretty sure the banister is the only thing keeping him upright. Then, he's there and can see Burt yelling at the tv and he's so not ready for this.

"Burt?" he says softly. Burt doesn't hear him, so Blaine calls him louder, shrinking back in the doorway when Burt looks over at him.

"Whoa, bud! Come sit." Burt stands up quickly, offering his hand to help Blaine across the room, and, although he flinches, Blaine knows he has to take it or he's likely to fall. He feels so weak, so sitting on the couch is a welcome change. Burt sits next to him, and with Blaine's tacit permission rubs his hand over Blaine's back.

"I need to talk to you, Burt," he manages. And, god, that sounds stupid. Why can't he ever just say what he means?

"Okay. Take your time, bud."

It's suddenly so hot, and he's dizzy even though he's sitting down, and his chest hurts and he can't breathe. He can't_ breathe. _He hears Burt call for Carole, but his voice is muddled as if Blaine is listening from under water. There are footsteps in and out, and then a brown paper bag is being held to his lips.

He breathes deeply, and when he calms enough to notice his surroundings again, he realizes Carole is sitting on the other side of him, pressing a warm cloth against the back of his neck and sliding frenzied locks of hair back away from his face.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" she asks tenderly.

Blaine places the brown bag on his lap. He hopes he doesn't have to use it again.

"Blaine, do you want…" Burt says, trailing off and nodding his head in Carole's direction.

"No," he croaks. "Carole can stay." She'd find out eventually and, besides, he likes the feel of her fingertips against his skin. It grounds him.

Okay. He can do this.

"I haven't really been truthful about last week. I have a secret…" He bites his lip. "And it really needs to not be secret anymore."

"What is it, son? We're here," Burt reassures him.

He looks up at the two adults with wide eyes, and feels intensely the heat from their hands against him, and it's not scary. It's comforting.

Maybe this is wrong – he's not ready for this. These touches are so nice, and once they know how disgusting he is, they'll stop.

"I can't…" He jerks forward to get up, but Burt gently eases him back on the couch.

"No, Blaine. You tell us what has you bothered." It comes out more demanding than Blaine has ever heard Burt, but he also knows it's out of worry. Burt must've realized how it sounded, because he slides down to the floor and kneels in front of Blaine in order to catch the boy's downcast eyes.

He slides Blaine's white hands in his own. "Please, Blaine. Tell me."

So Blaine closes his eyes, because he doesn't want to see their faces when they finally know, and braces himself for the disappointment.

"He never sent me death threats. His notes…they were love notes. But I never responded! I swear. But then they kept coming and – one day…he found me in the locker room. And he…um… he ra – t-touched me. And I couldn't stop him. I couldn't stop it."

His breath comes in gasps again, and he can feel the tears finally trekking down his face. At the admission, he doesn't lose the soft touches. Rather, Burt pulls him to the floor and they clutch each other like the world is dropping from underneath of them. Carole, sinks to the floor too, enveloping both of them in her arms as much as possible and not caring that the smell of burned chicken is coming from the kitchen.

And Blaine can feel his heart beating between theirs and he feels _alive_because his **family** cares about him even though he's broken.

* * *

Burt and Blaine are planning on going to the police station and Blaine is so nervous that he's made himself sick twice already when Burt starts the car and asks Blaine to retrieve the mail.

It's a sunny, cloudless day when the last letter, the very last one, arrives.


	6. Chapter 6

_Blaine is asked to speak at the memorial for the person who hurt him the most._

**A/N:** Welp, this is the end folks. I really appreciate all your support, so thanks for reading and being so kind with your praise! Also please note the suicide warning. This chapter shifts a bit, but I hope you'll like it. If you'd like, you can find me over at tumblr - my url is the same as my username here.

Thanks guys! Until next time!

* * *

**Part 6**

Come Monday, McKinley High is shrouded in dark melancholy, darkened in the wake of the loss of one of their own. The hockey team in particular is hit the hardest, and they've all gotten the number 26 sewn onto the left sleeve of their jerseys in memory of their teammate.

Even the people who didn't know Isaac personally tread with grief and question their own mortality -because he was so young.

It's like McKinley decided to turn into a counseling center under the guise of a school. The official announcement airs of the loudspeaker in the morning, and in every class after that the teacher pontificates about the stages of grief, offers brochures, and assures them that they can speak to a counselor at any time. They even bring in grief counselors to take the weight off of Ms. Pillsbury.  
There are so many questions and rumors, and Blaine hears the whispers following him throughout the school. And the same sympathetic sentiments keep being spoken over and over. He just wants to go home.

So he does, signing himself out after 3rd period when everything just gets to be too much for him to handle.

The deal was that, as long as Blaine tried to get through the day, he could come home no questions asked if it got to be too bad. Burt was hugely accommodating to Blaine's chaotic mental state ever since the he revealed the truth. Burt was probably just as scared and confused and angry as Blaine.

But Blaine doesn't remember the day he received the letter. He knows that they were about to leave for the police station, but only because Burt told him so after the fact.

The day passed in a haze, and Blaine never actually read the letter Isaac had sent him before committing suicide. Burt had read it, though, and put it up for him if he ever became ready. And then Burt did the best thing he could've done for Blaine – he called Kurt. They didn't talk because Blaine wasn't responding to anyone, but Kurt promised to be on the next flight to Ohio once Burt had filled him in on what he knew.

So, as Blaine opens the door to the Hummel household, he knows that Kurt will be there waiting for him, even though he has to skype into his classes to keep up with the work. And Burt will be resting inside after having an early treatment this morning. It's the first time Kurt has had to take him.

Nothing is right, and the world hadn't stopped moving, but the Hummels are doing the best they can to make him feel safe. And Kurt. _Kurt_ is here simply because Blaine needed him.

Blaine can smell the lingering scent of something baking, and he can hear Kurt humming in the living room where he is watching over Burt, and it feels like home.

* * *

Blaine gets called into the principal's office the next day. He panics about what he could've done. Are they calling him in to discuss the fight again? Do they know something about…the rest?

In the end it's neither of these things. Mr. Figgins tells Blaine of the school's plans to put on a memorial service for Isaac, and, ignoring the fact that he _knows _where Blaine's bruises come from, he asks Blaine to prepare a speech.

Because he's student body president.

"No," he says. "Absolutely not."

"Mr. Anderson. You were elected among your peers. This is your_responsibility._"

"I don't want it." It's beyond not wanting it – thinking about it makes his stomach churn and his hands shake and he feels himself shutting down already.

"You will be speaking at this assembly or I will personally remove you from your position!"

"But –"

"No arguments! You will be there," Figgins insists, and Blaine grips his chair tight, silent with shock. "You're dismissed."

He gingerly leaves the stuffy office and sends a text for Sam to meet him in the theater as soon as he is able.

He was unsurprised that the theater became the Glee club's emergency meeting place. It had always been a refuge for them, whether they'd need to sing out their feelings privately or otherwise, or even if they just needed to talk or think. They were all performers, and for many of them, the stage was where they felt at home. But that is the stage.

Blaine is no exception. Sometimes though, when he really needs to think through things, he sits in the audience – a different seat each time. It helps, sitting in the near darkness and looking up at his dreams, to see things from a different perspective.

At his old school, the theater had been his hiding place. Even if by some chance his tormentors had managed to find him, he knew the theater better than anyone, and could've disappeared before they even noticed they were chasing air.

Dalton's theater was always booked because it was used all the time by alumni and staff, not just the students. And when not in use, they kept a tight lock on it. That's when he took up boxing.

But he did miss having a theater to go to.

He's still lost in thought when Sam sprints on stage and squints into the darkness to locate Blaine. Today, he's sitting in the center section, as far back as one can go.

"Here, Sam," he says. It echoes, but Sam finds him anyway and sinks into the seat beside him – both of them looking at the stage instead of each other as Blaine repeats what Figgins ordered him to do.

"And he said you have no choice?"

"Mhmm." There's always a choice, of course. But Blaine has already resigned himself to losing his presidency. "I can't do it, Sam. It can't be me. And if it's not me…." Blaine turns towards Sam, begs him to understand.

"It needs to be me. You're asking me to do the speech? To take over?"

"I am."

"Blaine, I –"

"Don't worry. You'll be really good at it. And the others can help out with the speech if you want it. I just – can't be involved." Blaine knows Sam underestimates his abilities as a leader, and his reassurance is no lie. He just hopes Sam is able to see it in himself the way Blaine sees it.

* * *

The following days are difficult, but not unbearable. He hates the part of him that's happy while everyone else is so sad, but he feels so much safer with Isaac gone. A few days into the week, the whispers become less obvious. The grief counselor is still on hand, but the student class has decided to avoid the issue publicly instead of spreading thousands of different and outrageous reasons for Isaac to have killed himself – and none of them are close to the truth – as they did earlier in the week.

There's still speculation, but it's a somber affair. The grief is still so apparent in the hockey team, and if it were anybody else, Blaine knows that he'd be shedding his tears on their behalf. But it's not anybody else; it's Isaac. And this complicates everything.

Meanwhile, the student council, which is unfortunately made up of many of his friends, is floundering to get everything set up for the memorial the following Monday. And with their side glances of both sympathy and betrayal, Blaine knows they don't completely understand his sudden disinterest in his job.

By all accounts, he's still President until he doesn't show his face at the assembly.

In these cases, he just nods to Sam, who waves with a smile, and goes on his way.

* * *

There's a knock on the guestroom door, so Blaine looks up from his homework. Kurt is in his doorway, biting his lip and shifting on his feet. "Blaine? Do you have some time?"

"Yes! Of course," he replies, gesturing to the clean side of his bed, where his papers are not as scattered. Instead, Kurt sits Indian-style in front of him. He still looks nervous, but also incredibly tired as Blaine can see now that he's closer. Keeping up with his NYADA schoolwork must be so hard, and being here in Lima can't be good for his academic career. Blaine hopes Kurt knows what he's doing.

He contemplates encouraging Kurt to go back to New York soon, but the thought sends him nearly into a panic. He needs Kurt.

"Blaine, we haven't really spoken much about what happened. And I need you to know that my dad… well, he told me everything." Blaine's heart sinks. "And that makes this harder to do because _I know_ how difficult this is for you." He has no idea what Kurt is talking about, and says as much.

"My dad and I… well, we haven't pushed this because we didn't see a reason to. But – Blaine, sweetheart, please look at me."

Kurt is holding an envelope. _The _envelope. No no no no. He won't. Kurt grasps his hand.

"We wanted you to be ready. But there's no time anymore. Blaine, I know you aren't following the case, but the police are actively looking for motive. They've accused his parents of abuse because they simple _don't know what's going on_, Blaine. This is a suicide note, love. It's evidence and we need to turn it in as soon as possible. We could already get in trouble for holding it."

He knows where this is leading. Blaine shakes his head over and over, but Kurt presses the letter into his hand, and his palm itches where it touches. He wants to crumple it. Throw it into a fire. Toss it off a cliff into raging waves.

"And you really need to read it before we do."

"K-Kurt, no. Please."

It's the whimpering that does him in, and Kurt wraps his arms tight around Blaine, willing to offer the comfort Blaine needs. As he's always done. But that doesn't change the fact that Blaine needs this.

"I can be right here. I'll hold your hand and wipe your tears," he catches teardrop with his finger, "because you aren't alone in this. All you have to do is ask."

Kurt looks at Blaine. They have always been able to exchange poems in single glances, novels in expressions, and epics in touches. So when Kurt looks at Blaine and Blaine looks back, so many words pass between them that we will never know, and something changes in that moment.

"Stay," Blaine asks.

* * *

**_Blaine,_**

**_I promise this is the last time you'll ever get one of these. I know receiving this will be hard for you but maybe I'm doing it more for myself than for you. I just needed to write to you._**

**_I still love you. I know to you it doesn't seem like I did. But it feels that way for me._**

**_After the fight - god I am so SORRY, Blaine. I'm not a violent person normally – my parents took me to the doctors._**

**_I'm not okay in the head, Blaine. I'm really really not and they gave me medication and stuff and I was going to get better._**

**_ You know how when you're little you make up these imaginary friends and you fall in love with them even though they aren't real? That's us. Except you were the one that was real and I wasn't, even though I thought I was._**

**_It's not an excuse and I don't expect you to forgive me. But what I felt was real for me._**

**_I can see it clearly now and I know I'm a monster. I remember everything._**

**_They say ignorance is bliss, and I know I would've been better without these drugs. But you wouldn't have._**

**_You don't have to worry anymore. I can't stand knowing that I hurt you, but the selfish part of me feels the persistent ache of a broken heart._**

**_But that's not why I'm doing this. I'm doing it because I hate myself._**

**_Your happiness is just a plus._**

**_I love you._**

**_This is goodbye_**

**_Isaac_**

* * *

Burt tells the police the whole truth, and they seem more relieved to have a lead than upset at the delay in coming forward with evidence. It helps that Burt is a beloved Senator.

But they do ask Blaine to make a statement, and encourage Kurt to call Artie to the station in the hopes that he still has the proof of stalking (he does.)

They let Burt stay with Blaine while they take his statement because he is a minor and because his parents can't be reached no matter how many times they try. Realistically, it's because they know they won't get anywhere without having Burt present. Blaine needs direction from the people he trusts, not pressure from strangers.

After, they let Kurt in to comfort Blaine, but gesture for Burt to join them outside the office where they ask if Blaine has been tested for any STIs. He hasn't, and Burt promises that he'll take him over the weekend.

The police promise to protect Blaine as much as they can while the case comes to a close.

It takes hours, but after all is said and done, Blaine feels lighter, even through the emotions he had to relive that day. He's left empty, but, in the best way.

He knows somewhere nearby Isaac's parents are being told the awful truth about why their son decided to leave them.

* * *

The police keep their words to reveal only a partial truth to the media, so the "official" story come Monday is that Isaac struggled with mental illness and suffered from the suicidal tendencies that were a side-effect of the medication.

He has to keep this in mind.

He's still not sure he can do this, but he feels like he needs to. And this time, he came to the decision on his own.

Sam is at his side – "Are you sure you want to do this, man? I can still go grab my index cards."

Kurt pulls him in and kisses his temple (a safe comfort) – "Dad just arrived. He'll be in the back so you'll be able to find him."

The entire student body is waiting in the theater for him to speak.

Figgins passes with a nod and walks on stage. Blaine supposes he'll be keeping his job.

"I'd like to introduce your student president, Blaine Anderson."

And it's time.

_Thank you for that introduction, Mr. Figgins. Hello, everyone. Thanks for coming._

_When we are called together like this, it becomes very apparent how solid our McKinley family is. So a loss like the one we suffered this week is particularly obvious. Had we been meeting here for any other reason, Isaac could be sitting in that empty seat there, or the one over there, or there with his friends on the hockey team._

_I wasn't going to speak today. Isaac and I weren't on the best of terms; I think most of you know that. So, I didn't know what to say to honor his memory._

_But I do have something to say now._

_Isaac was not a good person to me, but that doesn't mean he wasn't a good person or that he wouldn't become one. Just watching Isaac with his friends was enough to know that he was more than my view of him, that the ability to make someone smile was hidden just below what he showed me._

_Our lives can be separated into phases – right now, it's easy: Elementary, Junior High, High School. But there will be many more as we grow older. A single phase does not define our entire lives. Not for me, not for you, and not for Isaac._

_The tragedy of Isaac's life is that he never gave his next chapter a chance. The police have stated that it was medication that caused his death. With some time and the right cocktail, Isaac could've gone on to have a family, become a famous hockey player. He could've turned into the type of guy that would volunteer for a soup kitchen or donate to rape crisis. We'll never know._

_We are too quick to define people when people are just too complicated to define, because, in fact, they are all our views of them at once. And Isaac happened to be caught in one view – his own – so much that he let this one phase of his life define him. And he was always more than his illness._

_I don't care who you are, what you regret, or what you think you might do, if you can't see the value in the rest of your life you call the suicide hotline and get help._

_Because you matter._

_And, today, we are going to hear all the reasons Isaac mattered. But first, the Glee club has prepared a small song in Isaac's memory._

_So, Isaac, sail on._

* * *

So, Blaine stepped back from the podium as the New Directions filled in around him. He looked out at Burt, clapping enthusiastically for his speech, and at Kurt stage left, who threw him a kiss with pride. He looked around to Artie, who'd known the full truth and respected him enough to keep it private; to Ryder, who'd read his expressions enough to know he needed help; to Sam, who'd taken over presidential duties no questions asked; to Finn, his future brother-in-law (no doubt); to Brittany, who'd held him as he cried; to Tina, and Unique, and Jake, and Marley.

He looked around at all the people who'd stood by him, and, finally, Blaine raised in voice in song.

**The End**


End file.
